Chapter 4: Echoes of Truth
1508 Words
Kade moved like a shadow through the pack’s sprawling compound, each step measured, careful—silent. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that the truth was hidden somewhere close, just beyond his grasp.
Lucan’s glare haunted the hallways. The Alpha’s eyes seemed to pierce through every door, every whispered conversation. It was as if the whole pack held its breath, waiting for the moment the secret broke.
Kade’s own guilt was heavier than the night air. He’d left Aria. He’d abandoned her. And now he was chasing fragments of a past he wasn’t sure he deserved.
He found himself at the healer’s quarters, a small, simple room cluttered with herbs and worn leather journals. Aria wasn’t there. But her scent lingered—sharp, sweet, and heartbreakingly familiar.
He rifled through her belongings, careful to leave no trace. Among the scraps of dried flowers and ink-stained pages, a folded piece of parchment slipped from a leather-bound book.
Hands trembling, Kade unfolded it. The words were hurried, shaky:
“He doesn’t know. He must never know.”
No name. No signature. Just a warning.
His heart thundered. Was this for him—or from him?
A soft voice behind him made him snap around.
“Looking for answers won’t change the past.”
Aria stood in the doorway, eyes wary but tired.
“I don’t want to believe it,” Kade admitted. “But everything points to… you and the boy.”
Her face tightened, pain flashing like lightning behind her eyes.
“You think I lied to you?”
“I think you tried to protect us all.” He stepped closer. “But the pack is already whispering. Lucan’s suspicions are growing.”
Aria shook her head, voice low. “If Lucan finds out, it won’t just be me who pays. It’ll be the baby. And you.”
Kade’s hands clenched. “Then I’ll fight him.”
She looked away, tears glimmering. “He’s not just an Alpha. He’s a storm you can’t outrun.”
Before he could answer, a sudden crash echoed from the corridor. Lucan’s heavy footsteps followed, the unmistakable sound of his fury.
“You two,” Lucan’s voice thundered, “think I’m blind? I see everything—every glance, every secret.”
Kade met his brother’s gaze, unflinching.
“I’m not blind, Lucan. I see you too.”
Lucan smirked, dangerous. “Then maybe we’re both looking for the same truth.”
The tension in the room was suffocating. Neither brother willing to blink first.
Aria stood frozen between them, caught in the war of brothers, love, and betrayal.
Kade realized then: the truth was no longer just a secret. It was a battleground.
And the war had only just begun.
Lucan’s Shadow
The flickering fire cast jagged shadows against the stone walls of the Alpha’s chamber, but none were darker than the storm inside Lucan’s mind.
He watched Aria’s empty bed across the room, untouched, untouched like her heart had become. The mark on her wrist still burned beneath his fingers—a brand of possession, yes—but it was not enough. It never was.
She belongs to me, he told himself. But she belongs to him too.
The thought was poison.
Kade. His younger brother. The prodigal son who left and came back with fire in his eyes and a secret in his blood.
Lucan’s jaw clenched. The pack whispered now, doubt seeping like venom. Is she carrying Kade’s child? The question gnawed at him, made him question every glance, every whispered conversation behind locked doors.
But Lucan was Alpha. He did not lose. Not to brothers. Not to shadows from the past.
He rose, pacing with predatory grace.
If Kade wants a war, I’ll give him one.
His mind twisted with plans darker than the night outside. He would tighten his grip on Aria, suffocate her with need until she could not remember a time before him. He would hunt Kade’s allies like wolves in the forest, tear down anyone foolish enough to stand in his way.
And the child? His.
Whether by blood or by bond, that baby would be his legacy.
Lucan’s lips curled into a cruel smile as he pulled from the desk a vial of dark liquid—bitter and potent.
Everything has a price.
And soon, Kade would pay it.
He strode to the window, watching the moon’s pale glow reflect off the trees.
The game is set.
The pieces move.
And no one will walk away unscathed.
Because love, in this pack, was never innocent. It was a weapon.
And Lucan held it with deadly hands.
The wind swept down from the northern ridge, carrying with it the scent of pine, damp earth, and danger. The Silverfang pack’s stronghold—half stone fortress, half forest haven—sat tucked into the shadow of the cliffs, its cold walls pulsing with old power. And old grudges.
Kade strode through the central courtyard, his boots echoing on the worn cobblestones. Wolves sparred in the training ring, steel glinting in the torchlight, but conversations fell silent as he passed. They stared. Some with curiosity. Others with contempt. He was the prodigal warrior returned, yes—but he was also the Alpha’s brother. And the air around Lucan bristled now with a possessiveness that dared anyone to question his throne.
“Still think he came back to serve the pack?” a low voice muttered nearby.
Kade’s jaw tightened, catching the scornful look from Darian, one of Lucan’s closest inner circle—a loyal tracker known for sniffing out traitors.
Beside him, Cira, the healer’s apprentice, gave Kade a glance that bordered on pity. “Some ghosts come back angry,” she murmured. “Others come back in love.”
Kade didn’t answer. He moved on, but her words burned.
Inside the council hall, the temperature dropped.
Lucan sat at the long stone table like a king on his throne. Varek, the silver-haired advisor, stood to his left—quiet, calculating. To his right leaned Sylas, the pack’s brutal enforcer, who studied Kade with the stillness of a snake.
“You’re walking old grounds, brother,” Lucan said, swirling a goblet of wine. “You should be careful where your feet land.”
“I’m here to serve the pack,” Kade replied, voice even. “Same as before.”
Lucan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “The pack’s changed since you left. Discipline is tighter. Loyalty clearer.”
Kade held his gaze. “Fear isn’t loyalty.”
Varek cleared his throat. “There are whispers, Lucan. The younglings speak too freely of your brother’s return. Some ask what he intends.”
Lucan waved a hand. “They ask because they’re weak. And weakness spreads fast. Like rot.”
Sylas shifted. “If you’re back to help, prove it. Take a border patrol. Alone.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
“Gladly,” Kade said, though his fists clenched at the smug twitch of Sylas’s lips.
That night, he walked alone beneath the stars.
The moonlit forest was quiet, but not peaceful. The land was unsettled. The soil remembered blood.
A movement ahead made him tense.
Aria.
She stood beneath the twisted limbs of an old ash tree, her cloak pulled tight. Not near enough to touch—but near enough to feel.
“I heard about the patrol,” she said. Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were alert. “You shouldn’t trust Sylas. He doesn’t send you out alone without a reason.”
“I don’t trust him,” Kade replied. “Or Lucan.”
“Then why are you here?”
The question hovered between them. Loaded. Too layered to answer.
“I’m trying to understand what this place has become,” he said finally. “And what you’ve become in it.”
Her shoulders tensed. “I survived it. That’s what I became.”
A branch snapped in the distance—enough to startle them both.
“You should go,” she whispered, glancing toward the trees. “There are ears everywhere. Varek has spies in the northern woods. Even the trees feel like they belong to Lucan.”
But Kade didn’t move.
“You said once you’d wait for me,” he said quietly.
Her breath hitched.
“That was before,” she whispered. “Before everything broke.”
He wanted to ask what had broken. Her heart? Their bond? Or something far more dangerous?
But she stepped back into the shadows before he could find the words. And this time, he let her go.
Back in the longhouse, Lucan sat in the dark, watching the flames dance in the hearth.
“He still loves her,” Varek said from the doorway.
Lucan’s jaw tightened.
“I know,” he replied.
His fingers curled around the carved wolf insignia on the armrest.
“And if he ever remembers what was taken from him...” Lucan’s voice dropped into a snarl, “I’ll make sure he loses it all over again.
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